Written on June 13, 2008, at Eat and Two Veg Restaurant, London, United Kingdom
This morning, I had to go to Cambridge and Sarah was off to Kent, so we said our goodbyes. I caught the train to Cambridge and met a nice woman named Emily Esche on the way. She is studying archaeology and is particularly interested in studying human remains. So, we could talk shop. She later sent me an email with great advice for sites around Stonehenge.
When I got off the train at Cambridge, I was stunned by the number of bikes parked outside the station (the pic shows less than a quarter of the bikes).
I walked to the Fitzwilliam Museum and, since the museum’s 25th dynasty expert is on leaving writing her thesis, I met with a fellow named Anders Bell, who showed me an Assyrian artifact from the museum’s store (i.e. storage area) then directed me to the ancient Sudan gallery and three ancient Egyptian galleries, excellent for research purposes.
The next blog entry has a special feature on Pakepu’s coffins. He was a Water carrier who lived in Western Thebes around 700-650 BCE.
I managed to finish my work at the museum in 2½ hours. On the way back to the train station, I took a few pictures of the Scott Polar Research Institute and the wonderful statue of a nude young man outside it.
I also walked a bit further down the street and visited the cathedral on the way to the train station.
Then I hopped back on the train to London to check into the overpriced European Hotel near Kings Cross, into that small basement-level room with a loud bathroom fan and a musty odor with little room for anything else but the bed and the lamp next to it, all for the bargain rate of £45 (~US$90) per night. That’s actually a good deal in central London.
I massaged my body with a hot shower, then headed out to find free wifi, so I could search for vegetarian restaurants and queer bars. The Cafe Sosso closed just as I arrived, so instead I went to the (Quaker) Friends House cafe, which had also closed, but they let me site there in the courtyard and browse with my laptop. I found this excellent veg restaurant called Eat and Two Veg where I just finished an excellent meal of veg sausage on mashed potatoes with fresh-squeezed juice and a fruit cobbler topped with butterscotch ice cream for dessert.
I arrived yesterday in Cape Town, my final destination before returning home to San Francisco. “The Mother City” is indeed beautiful. I have yet to do the site-seeing, but I’m enjoying the sun and the wicked afternoon breeze.
I met long-time Cape Town penpal Daniel last evening. He brought me to a lovely Indian restaurant where I definitely noticed the horn of plenty here as compared to Zimbabwe where I always felt a bit deprived on the food front. Plenty of excellent vegetarian options available here.
I boarded the Air Senegal flight in Bamako worried because it left late for Abidjan. That meant that I and several other guys missed our onward flight to Accra on Air Emirates. The following Emirates flight to Accra was in two days! So I opted to purchase an Air Ivoire ticket (because they wouldn’t accept the Emirates ticket) and to seek a refund for the Emirates flight later on. I ended up spending the night on Air Senegal’s dime at the airport hotel in Abidjan. The Abidjan airport is quite nice and modern. I met a couple of women there, as well as a creepy guy who tried to scam me as I was eating my dinner, also paid by Air Senegal, as was breakfast the next morning. I actually managed to get a lot of work done on the book since I had no distractions in the airport hotel, then during the eight hours after checking out and before the departure of the Air Ivoire flight.
I felt quite triumphant boarding that flight, despite a nasty airline employee who told me that the yellow rice sack I used to carry my excess luggage was not aesthetique (esthetic). She forced me to pay to have the sack wrapped in plastic and check it in rather than carry it on. OK, so I finally arrived in Accra and — guess what? — my bag checked in at Bamako hadn’t made it to Accra, despite several possible flights on which it could be sent.
After getting the runaround between three different lost luggage counters, I managed to file a report. I also noted the sign on the way to baggage claim that said (paraphrased): “Pedophiles and other sexual deviants are not welcome in Ghana. If you have come here to engage in such activities, please leave.” I felt warm and welcome all over, especially since I had heard recently from Andre about the Ghana government arresting a British citizen who was found with pictures of him having sex with a man in Ghana — who was apparently also arrested. The more I think about it, the more it seems like a sting operation or an attempt at extortion. This, and a prior incident in Dakar left me feeling not at all sexy, and I remained that way, except for fantasies about foreign travellers, even until today.
After Pays Dogon, I managed to get back to Bamako in reasonably good shape. I stayed a couple of nights at the marvelous Hotel Djenné, created by the former minister of tourism who had a great idea when she invited artists to decorate the place. On the bus ride there, I met a Dutch woman and her French traveling companion who was working on developing schools for young women in Mali. I met some other travelers over breakfast. O, and the first evening, I went to pick up the package I had left at Hotel Yamey and to try to visit Damien, the French guy working at his father’s restaurant, the Café du Fleuve. Unfortunately, he wasn’t around so I returned to the northern side of town to eat at the Restaurant San Toro, also owned by the former minister of tourism.
As a single person, I felt very conspicuous when I entered the restaurant, especially when they had no place for me, but after awhile of sitting and listening to a man playing the kora, I got into the spirit of the place and they eventually served me delicious juices and a vegetarian platter. I was craving good food after weeks in the “brousse” (countryside). Better nourished, and after a walk and a stop at the somewhat seedy cafe where I saw a transvestite, I returned to the hotel and slept well. I had tried to treat Samuel Sidibe and a professor friend of his to lunch, but he was busy, so I just stopped by to pick up the conference proceedings he had obtained for me. They included a griot’s account of the history of the Mali Empire, a crucial contribution to my book.
I spent the rest of the day trying to get a flight in January from Timbuktu to Bamako and managed only to confirm my place on the waiting list. That evening I again tried meeting Damien at the Cafe du Fleuve and instead ended up sharing a delicious meal with a Dutch fellow Michiel and a female friend of his, also Dutch, Lisa Winnen. They were very kind of me and my spirits revived considerably in preparation for my trip to Accra.
After leaving the Internet cafe on Saturday, I walked just around the corner and sat down on a little chair at the end of the chained-off drive in front of the the Ethiopia Hotel. One of a couple of Sudanese runner girls who I saw out in front of the Internet cafe said “hi”. I responded and we chatted a bit until some other guys came along. They explained that runners from Sudan often go to Ethiopia to train in altitude so they will have higher tolerance.
I Think I’m Turning Ethiopian
I learned that Ethiopians are different from those of us from the U.S. and Europe in another way. That is, their 12:00 starts at our 6:00am and our 6:00pm.
At first, I thought it crazy. But this morning I woke up realizing how much more sense it is for the time system to reflect and reinforce the behavior of starting the day when most people wake up. In the case of urban Ethiopians, the wake-up call comes automatically each morning from the local muzzeins who chant from the minarets. That wake-up call comes at 11:30 Ethiopian (i.e. 5:30am under the U.S./Euro time system). Then, they chant again 12:00 or 6:00am to wake most people up, to pray or perhaps at least to get ready for work. The next time 12:00 rolls around, it’s basically time to kick off work and eat some dinner.
Contrast the Ethiopian method with our method based on the astronomical notion of the maximum darkness or distance from the earth and the maximum lightness or minimum difference from the sun. We’re constantly messing around with daylight savings time schemes to make the time system more practical and energy-conserving. Which system is more practical really?
So, another weird thing about Ethiopia is that they never switched to the new Gregorian calendar which we currently use. So, most Ethiopians are getting ready to celebrate the new millennium of the year 2000 still. They are about seven years behind us, and their months only partially align to ours.
Moving to the Finefine Hotel
I tramped over to the Hotel Finfine to see if they had rooms available. The reception lady shows me the only room available. This hotel is still a bit old and perhaps drab, but the rooms are gigantic and the bathrooms offer hot water from local thermal springs. The open courtyard reminds me of some fairly well-off Indian hotel. The guard half-heartedly waves his security wand over whatever I happen to be carrying with me when I walk in. Of course, the wand detects problems (i.e. metal I’m carrying with me), which the guard promptly ignores, exchanging a smile with me. I make a reservation for the following day, Sunday.
I had my first meal of Ethiopian food in Ethiopia at the Finfine Hotel. I like the food — various heated and delicious vegetable dishes on the traditional injeera bread. The portions of food are so much food I can’t eat it all for under US$4 dollars.
Cruising the Piazza for Cockroaches
To liven up my evening after returning to the Ethiopia Hotel for my last night there, I decide to check out the Piazza neighborhood of Addis Ababa. On my way to check out the National Theater and the Mega Theater on the way to the Piazza, one of the guys in Andinet Square starts his hustle. “Where are you from?”, “You want to see this or that?”, etc. This one keeps walking with me up Churchill Ave. asking again and again if I want to meet this person who speaks French. Luckily, he clarifies that he wants no money, although I still don’t feel I can trust him.
When I see Satan Bet (Satan’s Theater) closed on the way, I stop to ask a fellow who is leaning against a rail in front of the theater what is going on. He explains that the theater doesn’t show anything in the evening. We admire the beautifully sculpted doors, including a instrument called a kerar in relief on one door. We introduce ourselves. His name is Paulo. After chatting a bit, I let him know I’m heading toward the Piazza.
He accompanies me and I feel perfectly comfortable with him. We stop by the Baro Hotel to see if they have rooms available, but they don’t. We meet a couple of Brits driving their vehicle throughout Africa… they started in West Africa and seven months later are now on an itinerary similar to mine through Ethiopia, Sudan, and Egypt.
Paulos and I look around the Piazza area for a place to buy a draught beer. The first place we enter has run out of draught. Paulo brings me to another one where we climb the rickety spiral stairs. The DJ is playing other music upstairs, mostly from the U.S. After I comment on how I’d like to hear Ethiopian music, Paulos asks the DJ and he plays some famous Ethiopian music. Paulos tells me the most popular singer is Ethiopia is Laun (?) Desessa (?). I’ve heard a bunch of Ethiopian music I really like since I’ve been here, although I’ve had trouble idenitying which is which.
Paulos orders “two draughts” in Amharic as we had agreed. The waiter brings back two drafts each, double what we could possibly need. Near the bottom of my second draught, I found something really gross: a cockroach. I felt something in my mouth and spit it out. Luckily, it was dead. I couldn’t get the gross feeling out of my gullet for a couple of hours after we left that place. Plus, I couldn’t help suspecting the wait staff of planting the roach in there purposely. Perhaps the cockroach in Ethiopia is similar to the larva in certain special Mexican tequilas? 😉
Ethiopian Religious Acceptance and the Star Trek Connection
I awoke in the morning to the calls from the minarets. It happens five times a day to call the faithful Muslims to prayer. For a country that is so Christian, it is amazing how well the Christians and Muslims get along. I saw Christian construction workers chatting and milling around casually while the Muslim workers got down on their mats to pray.
Star Trek fans will be delighted to learn the origin of the use of the words ferengi, negus, and perhaps also krar, which mean “foreigner”, “king” (archaic), and a kind of stringed instrument. in Amharic. I used to think ferengi came from the Hindi word for foreigner, but Hindi doesn’t have negus or krar as far as I know. Amharic is Ethiopia’s official language. Of course, there are dozens of other languages spoken regionally in Ethiopia.
I’ve landed safely in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, after about 30 hours of travel. I found that after this much time on a plane, I felt like I was in the air even when the plane wasn’t moving on the ground. I also discovered the concept of “air legs” kind of like sea legs, where I felt like I was still walking in an airplane aisle long after I landed at the airport in Addis Ababa.
The passport control and customs process went smoothly at around 2:30am Addis time. I changed some money (1 US$ to 8.8 Ethiopian birrs) at the airport so I could grab a cab to the Hotel Ethiopia.
Although I heard in advance the fare would be no more than 70 birrs even this late at night, I found that all the yellow taxi drivers had a “published” rate of 80 birrs for this time, so I ended up paying that rate rather than risking a ride with all my luggage on a less dependable blue taxi.
When I arrived, the guy at the hotel desk told me and the taxi driver that the hotel had no rooms available. For some reason, I didn’t panic and just persisted. Eventually he called another guy who handled the reservations who was probably sleeping somewhere in the hotel. When that guy showed up, he recognized the reservation immediately and sent me up to my room with two porters rolling my bags. I gave them each 2 birr tips. The hotel is old and worn down. My room is on the third floor overlooking the entrance. The toilet seat is broken and the dirt is worn into the room so it would be real hard to get it really clean again. I tried to plug in my laptop, starting with the plug adapter and the surge protector – I heard and saw a spark. Oops, I shorted out all the power in the bedroom, so I had to make do with the hall and bathroom lights.
This morning, I looked down from the hotel window for some people watching and to get the lay of the land. The entrance of the hotel is chained off and security guards keep random people, cars, and taxis kept clear. I saw a tall man with very thin legs wearing a tourquoise cloth wrapped around his shoulders and women apparently begging with their children on the street. What appeared to be a police officer chatted with one of them and seemed to give her some cash, then she moved on for a moment. She returned to give some money to her friend or possibly husband. A brief heavy downpour scattered everyone for shelter from the rain.
Leaving the hotel on my way to this Internet cafe, I reported the electrical problem to the hotel front desk. For this, the Lonely Planet Ethiopian Amharic Phrasebook came in very handy!
The Internet cafe is functional, although web page loading is sometimes very slow (up to 3 minutes). Most of the time it’s just slightly slower than what I get at home though.
Next I’m off to try to contact human origins researchers at the University of Addis Ababa, to scout out a better hotel, and to eat some fabulous Ethiopian food. It turns out the trick to getting vegetarian food here is to request “fasting food.” Many Ethiopians apparently “fast” on certain days and eat no meat on those days.
Here is a great recipe for vegan blueberry muffins from my housemate Marc.
Vegan Blueberry Muffins
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 tablespoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
10 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks or 5/8 cups) margarine, melted or at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 flax eggs
3/4 cup soy milk
1 3/4 fresh (or frozen) blueberries
1. Make 2 flax eggs.
2. Preheat over to 350 degrees Farenheit. Grease muffin tins lightly with vegetable oil (spray works).
3. Sift and mix thoroughly the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, salt, and sugar together into a small bowl.
4. Mix the margarine, vanilla extract, flax eggs, and soy milk together in a large bowl.
5. Fold in the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, until the batter is thoroughly mixed.
6. Fold the blueberries in gently.
7. Pour the batter into the prepared muffin tins. Do not allow the batter to overflow any of the muffin molds.
8. Bake the muffins on the center oven rack until golden around the base and toothpicks come out clean when stuck in the center.
Optional Modification:
Replace all or part of the margarine for a low-fat alternative using a 1:1 ration of unsweetened applesauce. E.g. For half the fat use 5 tablespoons of margarine and 5 tablespoons of applesauce.
Flax Egg:
Flax eggs are simply a 3:1 ratio of water and flax. To make 1 flax egg mix 1 tablespoon of ground flaxseed, the finer the better (coffee grinder works well), with 3 tablespoons of water. Mix up with a fork and for better results let soak in the fridge for 1 to 4 hours. You should notice an egg-like consistency after letting it soak.
Although postponed by a couple of days to accommodate attendance at the Romp Naked event in Seattle on July 22, the “Two Spirit Day Out of Time” gathering took place from July 23-26 on Mount Rainier. Sierra, who works as a ranger at the Sunrise Camp on Mount Rainier, issued the call and dealt with logistics, and Franz prepared healthy organic food and Julie Andrews “Sound of Music” inspired art for the gathering. The pictures below come from the cameras of many of those who attended the gathering.
Kirby (pic above) took a bit of a leap by driving up with Sierra and Franz for the gathering while still on crutches! I hitched a ride from Mugwort (above), who also shared a campsite where we both pitched our tents. Thanks to my dad for loaning me a tent so I didn’t have to cart one up on the plane from San Francisco.
My first view of Mount Rainier after two years stunned me. Grandmother Rainier–as Fruitboy has dubbed her–radiates beauty.
Mugwort, Kirby, Dazzle, Tusk, and I admired the landscape at the lookout point on the way up from the White River campground to the Sunrise Camp, which is the highest altitude point on a highway in the state of Washington, according to Ranger Sierra.
The greenery provided an amazing contrast to the mountain, snow-covered even in mid-summer.
Much of the gathering took place at the Sunrise Camp employee living quarters, the home for Sierra and other rangers and interns during the season when Sunrise Camp is open to visitors.
Sierra can see a great view of Mount Rainier, similar to this one above, from his bedroom window.
Sunrise Camp consists of a lodge with a snack bar for visitors and the Visitor Center and employee living quarters. You can’t beat the views from Sunrise.
The first evening Mugwort and I arrived a bit late. After setting up our tents at the White River campsite that Dazzle and Tusk saved for us, we drove up to the Sunrise Camp and found Kirby and Franz chatting near the entrance to the employee residence building with the great view of Mount Rainier. Franz said he’d pull some dinner together for us in a bit, so Mugwort and I hiked a bit up the trail toward Dege Peak and had a look over the other side of the ridge at a beautiful rock slide canyon with a sunset on a multilayered mountain horizon that took my breath away.
After dinner, we were exhausted and went back to the campsite for an early night. I was fighting off a nasty cold, but the next morning I decided to accompany the group on the planned hike to the Burroughs Peaks, thinking I would turn back after reaching the summit of Burroughs Peak I, while the group continued on to Burroughs II and III.
After hiking past a mountain stream and lots of beautiful flowers like the Indian Paintbrush above, we saw spectacular views of glacial lakes and snowy mountain peaks on the way up to the Burroughs Peaks.
At an overlook point, we got a good look at the glacier we would visit the following day. Plus, we saw some Bear Flowers.
Part of the trail was on rock slides and Sierra led us fearlessly upward.
The summit of Burroughs Peak I is large and flat, kind of a moonscape.
We got some great views of the Mount Rainier summit and saw patches of snow all around us.
Burroughs Peak I affords a good peek at Burroughs Peak II, and after some persuasion by Sierra, I decided to continue on to the second peak.
We could see down into Berkeley Park, home of the amazing wildflowers, from the trail between Burroughs Peaks I and II.
We crossed our first snow on the trail at that point too.
The views from Burroughs Peak II were also spectacular.
The Hills Are Alive… with Fruitboy on Burroughs Peak II of Mount Rainier.
In the distance was a snowy lake that may be a reservoir.
After Burroughs Peak II, I headed back down while the others continued onward to Burroughs Peak III.
I was quite exhausted on the way home, due to my cold, but still enjoyed pine groves and flowery meadows while hiking.
We met again at the White River campsite the following morning for a hike to the ice cave at the base of the glacier we had seen the day before. Kirby held down the fort at the camp due to his broken leg.
On the glacier trail, we saw Devil’s Club plants, a deer, and some amazing mountain streams and lakes. The lakes were cloudy due to deposits from the glacier.
We saw a strange pyramidal peak in front of the Mount Rainier summit. Fruitboy, Sierra, Mugwort, Dazzle, and Tusk all joined me in checking out the glacier lake.
Besides the strange pyramidal peak, I saw what looked like an owl in stone from an outcrop looking over us on another side of the glacial canyon. On the canyon floor, Sierra noted the change in rock deposits perhaps due to the river, the glacier, or to lava flows.
The floor of the glacial canyon included other mysteries, such as the white lichen and the lime deposits thrust up from the canyon floor.
We got up close and personal to a glacial lake, some composite rock, and Fireweed flowers.
As we walked, I looked back and saw a marvelous vista. We came across Monkey Flowers and strange slime in a creek.
After fording a glacial creek, we approached the glacier. At first, I thought the finger of the glacier extending down between the river and the mountain was the mountain itself, but I eventually noticed the rocks tumbling off the melting ice.
Falling debris gave us the clue that we should not approach the glacier too closely.
At last, we saw the ice cave!
We got up fairly close and I was tempted to crawl inside, but both Sierra and Fruitboy insisted that would be a very bad idea.
So we watched from what we thought was a safe distance.
I decided to call the cave the alabaster ice cave due to the beautiful texture of its ceiling and walls.
A glacial river streamed out from the cave.
Watching the cave became a bit of a spectator sport.
Then, the ice cave started to collapse!
Large ice boulders started falling downstream and Sierra went down to retrieve some of the smaller ones for us to examine up close.
One piece of ice had a mysterious thing trapped inside, which must have been there for many years.
Then, the ice cave collapsed some more! This time baseball-sized chunks exploded out from where the ice crashed into the river and nearly hit us, so we retreated back further from the ice cave.
We remained entranced by the glacier melting for a long time, then did a ritual for healing of the earth so that the glacier would continue to exist. On the way back to the campsite, we saw a red succulent and stopped by a flowing stream to rest.
I saw a strange fungus on the trail and Fruitboy taught me how to identify different types of pine trees on our way back to camp. The next day was the day to head home, so I took a few pictures of Ranger Sierra at Sunrise Camp before saying goodbye.
Judy, our gathering mascot, gave us all good luck to spread whereever we go on our way down from the mountains. Thanks to Sierra and everyone else who made this gathering possible. 🙂
I had a great time biking to Boy Beach, which is just south on the coast from the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m so thankful that my body is well enough for me to get out and explore nature and the world.
As I was biking over to the beach, I groaned when I saw a large bank of clouds ahead. As I arrived at the beach, the fog evaporated all at once.
I met a couple of young guys on the beach who were climbing on the cliffs. I asked them about the difficulty of the trail to the bridge and they replied it was easy if I stayed near the water. They thought I was a former teacher of theirs. As I returned from the bridge, I asked them what kind of teacher I was supposed to be, describing my fantasy about being their sex education teacher. They didn’t really think it was funny — oops, I guess they were straight. 😉
Flocks of pelicans flew south over the beach that day.
Next I ran across three guys sunbathing together, one of whom was a longhair named Bruce who I gave a card about the Queer Longhair group and mentioned the party at my place for queer longhairs each year on Folsom Fair eve. I sat with them and shared my organic orange mango juice with them. One guy left and I got to know Bruce and Daniel (who joked his name was Moonshine when I told him mine was either Stardust or Will, whichever he prefers to call me). Bruce massaged suntan lotion into Moonshine’s back and then around his buttocks, continuing with a rather penetrating anal massage for quite some time. They were inviting about my participating in some way and I wanted to, but I also felt really shy and uncomfortable. I joined in a little bit, but the mood just wasn’t right. I was more attracted to Moonshine, but he didn’t want to kiss, so the intimacy wasn’t there for me.
I returned from the beach by biking home. I felt great… it wasn’t a strain to bike even on the hills.
I had an Internet date with Mert after showering. We ate dinner at a new vegan Japanese restaurant called Cha-Ya, which was excellent. I had sea vegetable salad and a dish with veggie pot stickers in hot broth with vegetables. Afterwards, he wanted to go out drinking, so we caught a bus to the Castro and went to The Mix, then to The Bar. I drank mudslides and got quite drunk. He had to catch BART back to the East Bay before midnight, so I rode with him on Muni to the BART stop and continued on to Tubesteak at Aunt Charlie’s on Turk Street. I was on my own with a cool crowd for awhile, then Storm showed up with Jesse and Troy and their friend Will. Somehow, I ended up kissing two different women, one of whom had a moustache painted on her upper lip. I found one guy with two dots painted on each side of his face attractive and gave him my card. On the way home with Storm, we flirted with the taxi driver who let us know he was straight and showed us a picture of his son, now in Denmark with his girlfriend. We urged him to travel to Denmark to be with his family, despite his doubts about the relationship with his girlfriend.
The trip to Covelo was great! We all spent a lot of time hanging out around the ramshackle cabin. Creamy and Yoyo showed up in drag for the big BBQ. Jombi and Win were looking adorably queer. And Eric chowed down on the meat in a cloud of smoke from the BBQ.
Contrary to popular belief, Mitch did not turn into a hedgehog, and his Pan concocktion was delicious, refreshing, and stimulating. Somehow, Brian and Johnny transformed from kitchen queens into kings… now what is that all about? 😉 Along with all the volunteer chefs, their efforts made the event a gourmet success. Selma made fabulous quiche to complement the crate of granola I brought, so much it wouldn’t have gotten eaten if we had left it out every morning and with a bunch left for Yoyo upon our departure. And there is Will (with Eric below) who received many kudos as the meat czar.
Prickle and Buck were dandy-licious, as was Anthony in his lovely collar. Garnet, the bird, was quite often talkative and occasionally took flight as her cage is more of a sanctuary than a lockdown.
John’s boyfriend Bill was kind enough to encourage John to learn about massage, fortunately on me. We set up Eric’s massage table in a madrone grove down the hill from the cabin.
The path to my camping site brought me past a particularly lascivious madrone tree, its brown smooth bark forming a hot crotch I lusted after each time I went to my tent. Another knotty hotty madrone made me drip each time I cruised by as well.
Each day, I hiked down with some of the boys to the Eel River for delicious swimming, rock climbing, diving, sunbathing, and picnics.
Some of the guys got covered in mud and one or two buried under the sand. Win, John, and I made Jombi into tribal art, the remains of which appear below, as does a snake who slithered in the river as I swam.
Some special pictures are in a password-protected location. Let me know if you’re in any of these pictures and would prefer they be on the password-protected web page.
Other highlights of the Covelo camping trip for me were visiting the garden Yoyo is tending, reading poetry aloud while Eric, Mitcho, Anthony, and others made love on the porch, and morning yoga sometimes led by Three*. I really loved the spirit of comradery, the great food, and the healthy environment.
Thanks so much to Eric and Mitch and everyone else who made the trip possible.
